


We Are Haunted People

by Wordsinrain



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:51:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsinrain/pseuds/Wordsinrain
Summary: Set during ME2, Shepherd has a panic attack in the night. After going down to the training room she finds Garrus also can't sleep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for PTSD and Panic attacks.
> 
> If you are triggered by this fic, or any other fic regarding PTSD, panic attacks or anxiety then Anxiety UK have a helpline 08444 775 774 that can offer support as can No Panic which is also UK based 0844 967 4848
> 
> For Americans NAMI have a helpline 1-800-950-NAMI
> 
> If you outside of those countries, I'm sorry I don't have any numbers, but please consider using a helpline in your country as way of accessing confidential support. 
> 
> If you think I have missed off a trigger please let me know.

There was merc blood on her armour. It was a dark red almost brown where it had dried into the colour of rust. Which meant human. She sighed and continued scrubbing even as her fingers were blistered and sore with the effort. Cleaning her armour was one of the only tasks Shepherd insisted on doing alone in her cabin. The music was loud though, she was listening to a track list Liara had gave her back aboard the original normandy, and then again once she’d been brought back to life. She didn’t hear the lyrics, she just heard noise, and for now it was enough to block out most of her thoughts. 

Shepherd didn’t usually spend a whole lot of time in her cabin. She spent it talking to her crew. Other commanders spent their time theorising and plotting battle strategies, but she didn’t need to. Fighting and war made sense in her brain in a way that used to scare her a lot, before she knew she could use it to actually save people and not just kill them. She could look at a map and form the pathways as easily as others could plan what they were having for dinner. The variables were her crew. So she spent time talking with them and learning about them. She knew their personalities, but more importantly she knew their desires, their distractions, and their guilt. 

The illusive man and Miranda thought she was easily misled by running off to various planets to help her crew. But Shepherd knew that a loyal crew that had no other concerns had a far greater chance of success. She said that to them till the words didn’t make sense to her anymore. And if she knew it wasn’t the complete truth, then that was her business.

The blood was being stubborn, it had stuck in the grooves. It had almost blended in with the rest of her armour. She cursed and threw the pieces to the floor, the crash lost in the sound of her music. Her hands stunk of cleaning chemicals and she laid back on the bed. The blue light of the fish tank hurt her eyes. There were no fish in it, she’d killed the last lot again, and she decided to stop her accidental attempts to wipe asari fish from the universe. One blue and grey fish she’d named Garrus as a joke, she was particularly annoyed when that one went.

Her body ached; she’d taken a few shots. Her armour was bullet proof, but she’d cracked a rib. She couldn’t get the medi-gel to the wound sight at the time, removing her armour while hunting down mercs didn’t seem like the greatest idea, so she’d carried on. It was a pain she was used to, every breath feeling like knives. Treatment was easy once back on the Normandy, but it still hurt like a bitch. Even her trigger finger hurt.  


Her eyes started drifting close, she was vaguely aware she was still in her civvies and that the music would end soon. But for now the asari music was allowing her to forget. 

There were no dreams for Shepherd, she’d fought too hard that day for her body to do anything other than go into a near coma. But as she woke the silence of the room screamed.  
She was floating in space, at first her skin felt hot from the fire, her throat ached and burned from the smoke inhalation. But the heat was replaced with the bone deep cold of space as she floated further away. Panic rose up in her throat like bile. Even as she lay in her bed, the panic that she was going to die strangled her lungs as she tried to breathe. She sat up in the bed still gasping in air desperately. Her body was covered in sweat and every bit of her was shaking. She could feel the last bit of residual heat of the destroyed Normandy being replaced by the emptiness of space. Nothingness enveloped her.  
Shepherd screamed.

She screamed until her voice no longer produced sound and the phantom pain in her throat was replaced with real pain and it felt good. It felt tangible and it felt like now. Shepherd was on the Normandy, she was alive, she was not floating in space, she was not dying. She forced the thoughts to repeat in her head. It was a mantra, but her heart kept pounding against her chest.  


In the last moment before she died, the fear of death left her like a breath of air. She had saved most of her crew, or at least she thought she had. Her duty was done, let someone else stop the reapers. There was a peace that descended on her like she’d never felt before. Now in the comfort of her cabin, that last moment of peace made the guilt swirl in the stomach.

Shepherd got to her feet when her breathing became more stable. Her entire body was shaking still. It took her a few moments to even get the handle on her door to work. Trying to sleep without the meds had been a stupid idea. She’d been steeling sleeping pills from the med-bay, and Doc replaced them whenever the docked at a city, and bless her for not saying anything about it.

The corridors were silent, she guessed everyone was still asleep. She fought off the fresh wave of panic the silence was threatening to bring. The training room on the crew’s floor was empty. The clock near the ceiling flashed 02:46. At least she gotten a good few hours sleep. 

There was a lot of training equipment in the room, it smelt of dried sweat and protein drinks. They needed to accommodate a lot of different species physiology, though there was an unfair amount of human apparatus. There was an old earth style punching bag in the corner and that was exactly where she was heading. The leather on it had worn in places and it had been duct taped where it had started to leak.

Shepherd wrapped her hands and started the music before she began. She started working the bag hard and the strain on her body forced her racing heart to be about exertion. All her physiological symptoms had a nice logical reason to exist. Her muscles strained with each movement of her body. Shepherd moved methodically on the battlefield, every single movement was deliberate and had a purpose. Now she moved like water, fluid.

‘Shepherd.’ She almost didn’t hear her name over the sound of her music, but the rough sound cut through the bass. Garrus was in the doorway. He was frowning slightly in that way of his. Shepherd had no idea what she looked like right now and to be fair most of the time she didn’t. She was dressed in yesterday’s civvies, probably had bed hair that was caked in dried and fresh sweat just like the rest of her. She also had the sneaky suspicion there had been tears at some point, but she couldn’t be certain. There were probably bags under her eyes too. 

‘Surprised you’re up at this time,’ her voice came out quiet and horse. Garrus moved further into the training room. He was also dressed in civvies, and she preferred it, he looked too bulky in his armour. The civvies showed off the angles of his body much better. 

‘You’re not the only one with too many memories to sleep,’ he said as he turned off her music. Shepherd should’ve expected that answer, and she knew she wasn’t the only one with trauma. She was just the only one with trauma that was also expected to save the universe. There wasn’t time to process what she’d seen, and it wasn’t nearly as important as getting to the reapers. 

‘What keeps you from sleep?’ she asked, knowing full well she probably wouldn’t be able to give an answer in return. 

‘After confronting Sidonis I sleep more, but I still see their faces sometimes,’ Garrus said. Shepherd nodded. 

‘I see Ashley,’ she admitted her voice still gravelly from her scream. ‘And my parents, and the crew I lost.’ 

It wasn’t all she saw, but it was still more than she’d thought she’d say. There was something about her lizard sniper that made her want to talk. 

‘We are haunted people,’ he said. ‘It is the curse of being good at what we do.’

Shepherd nodded, newly cooled sweat was running down her neck. 

‘I have some Turian liquor if you fancy forgetting in other ways that don’t involve breaking yourself?’ 

‘Let me shower first and I’ll be right with you,’ she said. It was exactly what she needed, company and alcohol. 

Garrus nodded, ‘meet me in the observation deck.’ 

‘Kasumi leaves that room?’ Shepherd remarked.

‘Only to sleep.’ 

Shep nodded and went to the training room showers. She always kept a spare set of civvies in there, and she immediately put the music back on. This was not the time to risk a repeat of silence. The hot water was like a miracle on her skin. She felt the tension in her muscles release slightly. There was some generic soap kept in the showers and she scrubbed herself as hard as she scrubbed her armour, as if she could wash the fear and guilt out of herself. The water swirled down the drain and she imagined it was her past and memories. If she could just forget that one night. 

Garrus was waiting for her. She rushed through drying herself and threw the new clothes on. Her hair was wet and was dripping down her back, but she was too tired, and too sore to care.

He was sat at the bar with the window to the outside open. Her stomach clenched as she thought about floating in space, lost out there amongst the stars. She turned to look at Garrus instead as he poured her a glass. 

It was silent again, but the panic didn’t rise, not while she was standing there with Garrus. Perhaps his breathing stopped the threat of silence in her mind. She sat next to him, and sipped at the drink. It was harsh and burned her already beaten throat. It reminded her of old earth whisky, a drink that was now so rare you had to own half the galaxy to afford it. 

‘I’m glad your here,’ she said. 

‘Me too, being the Archangel, it was…’ Garrus stopped and took a sip of his drink. ‘Lonely.’ 

Shepherd nodded, she’d done that before too. She’d gone rogue, for a while, refused any alliance teams. She’d basically became a lone merc for the alliance, it took some time before she would let herself trust having another crew. And since then she’d let Ashley down, not to mention the crew on the last Normandy. 

‘Is it better or worse for others for us to be alone?’ she whispered. The words were nearly lost in the air. 

Garrus looked at her, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. 

‘I’ve thought about that many times,’ he said. ‘I don’t know about myself. But for the number of people who have died under your command, it doesn’t even come close to the number of people you’ve saved Shepherd.’

She sighed and took another swig of her drink. 

‘I know in an ideal universe, you’d save everyone and lose no one, but that’s not the one we live in.’ 

‘Why me,’ she whispered. ‘Why do I survive?’

‘If you didn’t then the universe would’ve already been destroyed by Saren and the reapers.’ 

Shepherd knew the words he was saying were right, but she wasn’t in the mood to listen to them. All she knew right now was that she lived and the people around her died. 

‘You’ve done so much Shepherd,’ Garrus said. ‘You’ve saved so many people. How can I sit here with you, and not be moved by you?’

She looked at Garrus, her chin resting on her hand. The intensity of his gaze made something break in Shepherd. The tears were falling down her face, before she knew what was happening. There was no sobbing, or noise, just tears falling. 

He reached forward and brushed them away. It always surprised her how soft his skin actually was. She always expected Turian scales to be rough and corse, but she loved the feeling of Garrus’ skin on hers. 

‘I’m just so tired,’ she said. She didn’t need to explain to Garrus, that she was tired of losing people, tired of the weight of the universe on her shoulders, tired of her trauma stacking up and barely fitting in her mind. 

‘I know,’ he said. ‘But if anyone can keep going and save us all it’s you. And I will be beside you every step of the way.’ 

‘You better,’ she said with a a ferocity she didn’t think she was capable of. He stood up and pulled her into him. She had to turn her head and lay against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. It had been a long time since anyone had hugged her. She thought about how this wasn’t exactly a good state for a subordinate to see her in, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. She long stopped seeing Garrus that way. 

‘I promise,’ he whispered above her head. She closed her eyes and listened. His heart beat was steady, and the rhythm was hypnotising. She let the warmth of him, calm her mind.  
She pushed away from him and back to her seat, taking another long swig of the drink. 

‘Go get one of Kasumi’s book,’ she announced as she got up and headed to the sofa. 

‘Which one?’ He asked and starting browsing. ‘This one is about the last two survivors of a colony.’ 

‘Sounds good,’ she said snuggling into the corner. He came over and sat at the opposite end. It took her less than a moment to decided this was not at all what she wanted. She moved along the sofa till she was lying against Garrus and could hear his heartbeat again. She felt him tense when she’d invaded his space, but he quickly relaxed again under her. 

‘Ok,’ she mumbled against his chest. ‘Tell me this tale of two survivors.’

**Author's Note:**

> Garrus' line 'How can I sit here with you, and not be moved by you?' was taken from the song 'Everything' by Lifehouse.


End file.
